I tell fortunes: The fortunate kind and the unfortunate kind.
How? Spin the wheel and see.
Trust in the sun coming up tomorrow is based on prediction. 'Coming up' is not a factual scientific description of the event. I can lay any cards on the table and confidently say, "No, the sun is not coming up tomorrow." The better question to ask is why it matters that the Earth spins one more time to face this hydrogen fireball celestial on your happy clam on that future day. And if it proves to you to do that, the questioner can thank the sun more than their fortune teller. They can thank me by telling me I was wrong. "See, the sun did come up!" My eyes will say to them, "Is that what it did?"
Still remaining to be seen is what the sitter will do with it. Do they recall that I also told them that the two characters in front of that wall, reaching out to each other for different needs of stability, either blinded by the brightness or blinded by sightedness, do not need their eyes right now to ask themselves the important question?
I don't bother with tiddlywinks. I don't know what they are. Spellcheck is doing its job, thankfully, because otherwise, I don't know how to spell them. I hear the term used in sentences that imply frivolity and practical uselessness. I think it's an antiquated game of some kind. Am I correct in my usage of it here? They are only for entertainment? I turn the table and ask the client to draw cards for me on that. Anyhow, tiddlywinks: play them if you want. You will have tiddlywinks and a sun coming up, but did you know the cards are never wrong?
Here's a prediction: The cards will be correct tomorrow. The querent rises from the session and goes about their week to realize that tomorrow is always tomorrow. They have a choice at that juncture: declare tarot is for suckers and charlatans, or level up to the challenge of asking better questions. I suggest the latter.
I take the Sun from a deck of trumps and lay it on the table. I point to the Sun's face above the wall. The Sun is looking at us demanding, "Answer me these questions three: What does it matter to your happy clam that I come up tomorrow? What does it matter that I am here today? What will you do if I'm not?"
I shuffle and pull three groups of four cards. I lay them out as rays around the Sun card like the hours of a clock.
Photo: Nicolas Rolichon Marsielle by Octavio Alicera Perez and Pablo Robledo
One, two, three, four: What does it matter that the sun comes up tomorrow?
Five, six, seven, eight: What does it matter that the sun is up today?
Nine, ten, eleven, midnight: What will you do if it does not?
It's on you.
